


Toxic

by taylor_tut



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Parental Roy Mustang, Sick Character, Sick Edward Elric, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-16 23:01:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13063986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/pseuds/taylor_tut
Summary: A request from my tumblr: short ficlet. Ed gets cut by a poisoned dagger.





	Toxic

Thanks for the prompt! Here’s a fic!  Sorry it’s short and not good. I’m really tired.

* * *

Of everything that had happened on the mission, Ed didn’t expect to come staggering into the Colonel’s office grimacing in pain from a  _burning_  freaking paper cut.

Of course, it wasn’t really a paper cut–it was a knife, but with his gloves on, it had barely been enough force to slice through the thin fabric and nick his palm. It had barely even bled. 

The train ride back to Central had been short. He’d intended on finishing his report on he train, but that hand’t happened. Instead, Ed had just fallen asleep. 

Now, as Ed sat in Roy’s office waiting for a lecture on responsibility and diligence and the importance of paperwork, he felt clammy and cold. He vaguely thought that he might be coming down with something, but those thoughts were interrupted when Roy entered his office and sat at his desk.

“Sorry I’m late, Fullmetal, but your appointment wasn’t scheduled until 17:00,” he explained.

“It  _is_  17:00,” Ed muttered.

“Which is why I assumed I had at least another half hour,” Roy smirked. “Anyway, where’s your report?”

Ed didn’t respond. He knew that the Colonel had just asked him a question, but for the life of him, he couldn’t put together what he was supposed to say. Everything felt suddenly very hazy and dark.

“Fullmetal?” Roy prompted, “Do you not have your report?” Ed poked the cut on his palm with his metal hand, wincing at the red-hot waves of pain it sent through his arm. His stomach was churning and his head was pounding. Roy bristled–he didn’t like being ignored; but that anger dissipated when he got a good look at Ed’s face.

The kid was sweating and shaking, and dangerously pale.

“Are you feeling alright?” Roy asked, suddenly changing his tone. Ed looked at him blearily, nodding wordlessly, not haulting his prodding of the cut.

“Did something happen to your hand?” he asked gently. Ed extended it toward the colonel, palm facing out.

“Just a cut,” he managed, but Roy’s eyes widened. There were black tendrils stemming from the edges of the flayed flesh, and it looked red and inflamed. 

“Holy shit, Fullmetal,” Roy hissed, “That looks infected. When did it happen?”

Ed thought for a moment. “Half an hour ago,” he replied. Roy’s stomach flipped in sudden dread as he picked up the phone and called for Riza.

“Hawkeye, I need you in here,” he instructed. He was about to explain further, but he heard the phone hang up and suddenly the blonde woman was standing at attention in his office doorway.

“Sir?” she questioned.

“Get a doctor in here, quickly. Fullmetal’s been poisoned.”

Ed didn’t really react–he was far too preoccupied trying to keep the nausea that was rolling in his gut at bay. It was a losing battle, and he didn’t even have the wherewithal to stand and take himself to the bathroom before leaning forward and coughing up vomit onto the carpet.

Roy stood behind the couch and awkwardly patted Ed’s back as he waited impatiently for the doctor to arrive. 

“Sorry,” Ed apologized, just when Roy was sure he was so out of it that he couldn’t possibly know what was going on. 

“For what?” Roy asked gently.

“I threw up on your floor,” Ed muttered, sounding embarrassed. 

“It’s fine,” he replied. “It can be cleaned. How are you holding up?”

“M’okay,” Ed slurred sleepily. “Tired.”

“Don’t sleep yet,” Roy commanded, “A doctor will be here soon.”

Ed nodded. “Where’s Al?”

“He’s probably at the dorms where you left him,” Roy explained. “I’ll call him and let him know what’s going on. I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

“No,” Ed objected, “Don’t. He’ll worry.”

“Edward,” Roy chastised, dropping the formality of the kid’s military name, “He deserves to know what’s going on.”

“Well, he deserves a lot of things I can’t give him,” Ed snapped, “Don’t call him.”

Roy’s heart sank. Well, that explained why he didn’t want his brother up here worrying. And with Riza downstairs waiting for the doctor to come, it looked like Roy was on his own for the time being.

“Stay awake,” he barked as Ed’s eyes slipped closed, despite secretly hoping that the kid would just pass out and he could avoid this whole paternal moment.

“But I’m tired,” Ed whined. That, too, was concerning. Ed didn’t ever whine. 

“Too bad,” Roy dismissed. Ed looked hurt by his tone, so he softened. “Just wait until the doctor gets here, okay? It should be soon.”

Ed nodded, still shivering. 

“Are you cold?” Roy asked. It was a dumb question, and one that Ed didn’t dignify with a response. Roy shrugged off his blue military coat and draped it around Ed’s shoulders, watching him close his eyes in relief at the sudden warmth. 

When the doctor arrived, it was only a brief examination before he determined that Ed needed more advanced medical care than what they could provide in Roy’s office, and Roy kicked himself mentally for not thinking that he might be bad enough off to need a hospital. He helped the doctor load Ed on a stretcher and then into an ambulance before climbing into a military car alongside Riza to meet them at the hospital. 

“He’ll be alright, Sir,” she soothed, and Roy nodded. It was too early for him to believe one way or another, and he was not good at waiting. He silently resigned himself to a few hours of uncomfortable patience. 


End file.
